The Power of Singing: How Being a Member of a Choir Benefits Your Mental Health

The light from the setting sun gleams through the stained-glass windows as the audience settles into their seats. Assembled at the front of St Pip and Jim’s, and outnumbering the audience, the choir, awaiting the first signal from conductor Russell Burton, sits in silence.

“Good evening!” shouts Russell, with a smile, captivating the audience with his voice. A voice that’s no stranger to performing.

“Apparently,” he says, after some general housekeeping, “Mozart put off finishing his Requiem (a musical composition for the souls of the dead) because he believed that if he finished it, he would die. That by finishing it he was writing his own death. Well, he died before it was finished so…” and on that note, the concert begins.

Hauntingly beautiful, the first movement has me completely enraptured. Until this very moment is has never been clearer to me that choral music was made to be heard in the flesh.

When it comes to feeling emotion, listening to music is one thing, singing in a choir is another. Listening is a great way to get that dopamine fix, or you know, have a good cry to, or even for those moments when you just have to look at the ceiling, staring into void. But singing, and singing with people especially, does so much more.

Jo Doe, alto soloist of Pip and Jim’s choir said, “I love singing in a choir and getting a chance to make something beautiful with a lot of other people. I’m not a big soloist, I prefer to sing with people, make a beautiful noise, and do something lovely together.”

Jo has been singing since she was in primary school and has been a member of various choirs, on and off, for most of her life. “I find singing really helpful for my mental health. I’ve had a long history, all my adult life, of struggling with mental health. Breathing and the mindfulness aspects of singing, but it’s also good for you physically; keeping on singing just kept me well.” A smile on her face throughout the performance, even when standing front and centre, it’s clear that being part of a choir, singing for others, and singing for herself, is important.

Soprano soloist, Katie Gilchrist has also been singing her whole life. And hearing her beautiful solo during the Benedictus, actually altered my brain chemistry, “When I was about eight years old, my mother met someone from the local church and said, ‘I’ve got this child who sings all the time, what shall I do with her?’ and the organist said, ‘Put her in our choir!’” and she’s been slaying the choir scene ever since.

“I love it because there are physical effects of singing; during the pandemic, when I couldn’t, I noticed I was more stressed. I also love being with people. I met my husband and a lot of my friends through singing.”

Choirs are everywhere, in all shapes and sizes, and this has helped Katie continue pursuing her love of singing, “Wherever you go in the world there will be choirs, and that’s true. There are always people to sing, always songs to share. It’s a great thing to always have there as part of your life.”

As the concert came to an end, it felt as though, suddenly, my frontal lobe had developed. I was a changed woman. No music streamed from my phone could compare. It almost made me want to join the choir myself. Life is silent to me now.

Being part of a choir clearly isn’t just something old biddies at the local church do to accompany the congregation during Sunday services, “it’s making music together,” said Annette Farrimond. Annette, whose life is surrounded by music, has been a member of a choir for 55 years, starting when she joined the university choir at 19 when she was a secretary at King’s College Cambridge.

Singing in a choir “lifts the spirit,” she said. “It’s very good for your mental health, and it’s very good for your physical health, breathing and standing. It’s about teamwork, and it’s making something that people are going to come and listen to. Most of all, to me it’s glorifying God.”

Religious or not, I think anyone would struggle not to feel goosebumps, regardless of the fact that it was a bit chilly in the church that evening, when listening to Mozart’s Requiem. It’s in Latin anyway, so even the religious, but not privately educated, among us were moved by music alone. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that everyone in St Pip and Jim’s church hall that evening, including the choir itself, experienced some sort of transcendence. Being part of a choir isn’t just a hobby, a way of socialising, a way to keep mentally and physically healthy, it’s a way of life.

“I’m stopping now,” said Annette, with a slight shift from her joyful tone to an almost mournful sigh, “my back is not as strong as it was, there’s a lot of standing, and my voice isn’t what it was.” I couldn’t imagine stepping away from something that’s been an integral part of my life, having the strength to say when enough is enough. But of course, she’s not completely stopping, “I’m still singing in the worship group here, I’ll sing in the kitchen. I listen to Classic FM - I love Classic FM - I love having music around.”

Mozart’s Requiem isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. So valid. I imagine most people know it from various film scores, as they should. And I was definitely the youngest person in the audience (humble brag, but actually I’m just the token granny.) But everyone chooses to keep their peace in different ways, I just happen to get my mental detox done at classical concerts surrounded by people old enough to be my grandparents.

Russell and his choir gave a performance that ate and left no crumbs. The mental-high I had after the concert is a testament to their amazing performance. I have little doubt that the choir themselves felt as exhilarated as me, and then some.

If you’d like to hear from Russell himself, listen to our latest podcast Life Surrounded by Music : 5 Minutes on GL Twenties.

Want to find other classical music events around Cheltenham? Click the link here.